


Winter

by Swlfangirl



Series: Happy Sterek Birthday Heather! [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, NOT a full-blown attack and not in detail, Rescue Wolf, Slight Panic, and everything is happy in the end, stiles is a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swlfangirl/pseuds/Swlfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack goes to Lake Tahoe for winter fun and Stiles may or may not do something really stupid.</p><p>Spoiler Alert: He does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

**Author's Note:**

> This entry has slight mentions of panic ( not full fledged attacks) and a split second of angst, for the most part though it's fine.

The pack took a road trip right after Christmas starting when Asher and Cece were born. Three cars, crammed full of people and luggage, made the journey to Lake Tahoe. The few hour trek wasn’t so bad when the twins were still in their “ _pass out any time they get in the car_ ” phase, but once Derek decided to make it a family tradition, the trip seemed to get longer every single year.

They had one year of what Stiles would have called “peace” before Derek demanded that they turn off all devices and actually spend time talking to one another in the car. That didn’t go over well; the twins loved one another, and they fought like hell for each other, but they also knew how to push each other’s buttons better than anyone else ever could.

Cece would tease Asher about anyone he talked to at school, he’d respond with some kind of witty retort, to which she’d just growl. They’d settle down for a few minutes and then it would cycle around all over again. Sometimes it would even be the exact same argument, over and over again, giving their parents _Groundhog Day_ levels of DeJa Vu.

Fortunately, it always seemed to improve once the whole pack was together at the massive cabin.

The born Hales and the Argents were the only ones to ever see and touch real snow before their first trip. Scott and Stiles were so excited, they stayed outside until Derek had to literally drag them back in, his husband almost frost bitten from the winter weather. After that, they took a little more precaution.

They never really spent much time on the slopes. Only Isaac and Cora actually enjoyed skiing. Despite the wolves’ natural balance, flexibility, and fast reflexes, they hadn’t really taken to it. That was fine with Stiles though, he preferred staying as far away from the lift as possible, wanting to keep his feet firmly on the ground. Instead, they used up their days with scattered snowball fights, snow angels, and even built a fairly impressive igloo behind their cabin.

They all curled up around the fire and watched the sun set behind the mountains. The feeling of pack and happiness gluing every broken fractal of them back together. Although they each had their own problems, for a moment...they were able to let it all fade away and just focus on family, love, pack.

On their second day, the pack woke up to huge stacks of warm, fluffy pancakes and a platter of fried meat that would make grown men weep. Stiles woke up early and made over a half dozen batches of his favorite flapjack recipe. He knew the appetite of the pack, human and wolf alike, was a force to be reckoned with.

With full bellies, they ventured outside; Stiles, Allison, and Chris bundled up pretty heavily while the rest of them just wore thick beanies and a light jacket. Half the pack splintered off to go sledding while the others stayed behind to just play in the snow, like children. Coincidentally enough, all the _actual_ children chose to not stay behind.

Stiles shrugged, he didn’t mind being immature occasionally (read: always). He was a kid at heart and that’s where it really mattered, right?

They’d been goofing around for about twenty minutes when Stiles had an idea. “Hey, Derek. Is there a snow shovel in the garage?”

Dereks brows instantly turned down and Stiles could practically feel the _“I’m withholding judgment for now_ ” quality in his glare. “Why?”

It was clear that his husband had no faith in him whatsoever. If he was honest with himself, Stiles knew that Derek had a right to be concerned. It isn’t as if he’s the model citizen for safety and putting even a mostly harmless tool (ie: snow shovel) in his hand could potentially be both embarrassing and somewhat dangerous.

“Do we have one or not?” Stiles questioned, a wicked grin forming on his lips.

“Yes,” Derek sighed, shaking his head fondly and moving toward the garage, “Don’t hurt yourself with it.”

“HA! HA! It’s nice to know my husband treats me with such respect and support,” Stiles teased, knowing he’d hit the jackpot with Derek. He was pretty damn sure nobody but Derek would have tolerated all his bullshit.

Stiles grabbed the snow shovel and began digging a long channel off to the side behind the cabin. Luckily there’d been another couple feet of snow dropped on the mountain over the last few days, which meant he was able to dig pretty deep. He shoveled a path beneath the top six inches of snow, making a small _underground (undersnow?)_ tunnel.

He was about three feet and thirty minutes into creating his snow fort when it all came crashing down.

Literally.

“Derekkkkk,” he shouted, wondering if even a werewolf could pick it up through the half mountain of snow crushing him. _Yeah, this was a great idea. Stiles thought. Dig almost four feet into the snow and then crawl under it like an idiot, Stiles_.

Stiles began to push at the layers of sludge and ice over him, struggling under its heavy weight and freezing temperatures. Just as he poked through the sheet of ice over him, he realized what a horrible plan that was when a swoosh of nearly frozen water puddle swept down over his finger and onto his face. Stiles squirmed and cursed in the death trap he designed for himself, as his pleading yells for his husband grew more hurried and panicked.

He heard the a very muffled sound that sort of resembled his name. _Just breathe, Stiles. You’re okay big Alpha husband of yours will notice that you're missing...eventually._ If not Derek, then Scott. Scotty always had Stiles’ back, his best friend would have him out of this frozen coffin in a second!

There was another mumble that definitely carried the weight of an Alpha grumble...someone was going to save him. Stiles took a couple deep breaths, and tried to calm his rocketing pulse. Pulling on a cool demeanor he yelled again as a small sliver of light pierced the outer layer of death-snow “This is not a learning opportunity, Derek. Get me out of here!!”

A couple minutes later, the snow began to give way above him and he was able to flail his way to the surface. He was just about to start explaining himself when Derek cut him off.

“I don’t wanna know,” he said, sighing in clear exasperation. It wasn’t often that he earned that look from his husband anymore, but it still managed to crawl under his skin the same as it did not long after they first met. For the most part; age, wisdom, and his spark had helped him grow into a semi-functioning adult. Only on occasion did he do something this catastrophically stupid.

“But just let me,” he tried to explain what the goal was and how impressive it would have been but Derek just shook his head again.

“Stiles, I’m serious. I don’t want to know.

He huffed out a long breath. “Fine,” He stomped back toward the cabin, the cold seeping into his every limb. He shoved his foot against a particularly unstable stack of snow and nearly fell into it. Like the grownup he sometimes chose to be, Stiles didn’t turn around and give Derek the satisfaction of a retort when he heard the raucous laughter.


End file.
